So Jamie hid behind different children - students, it seemed - and made her way deep inside the train.
She was not worried about herself, of where she was headed, because (and this time she listened) her common sense told her that so many people wouldn't send their children to a dangerous place. And the pull in her heart told her to stay aboard the train, so she did.
The train in itself was quite cozy, very narrow but warm, and the sound of happy chattering and reunions here and there of friends made Jamie smile in spite of herself.
Jamie had felt so good, so satisfied with herself, climbing anonymously and clandestinely onto an unknown train headed for an unknown destination. But when it started moving, the soft chug-chug-chug whispering its way faster and faster until Jamie's heartbeat couldn't follow anymore, Jamie felt strange.
Not just elated, but more like... The pull telling her she was going home, for some strange reason.
And Jamie wondered "what now?" under her breath.
She hid behind groups of reunited friends and watched as a boy of around sixteen, perhaps seventeen years old drew a stick from his sleeve and exclaimed "Tarantallegra!" as he pointed the stick towards another boy. This boy began to dance around, his legs flailing, menacing to hit someone nearby. Jamie's eyes grew round and wide. So the stick was a wand, and the children, students here were all magicians?
No, whispered Jamie's pull, wizards, and witches.
Before anyone could say anything, before Jamie could run away and whoop with excitement, a tall, ginger boy with glasses briskly walked up; his chest puffed out, drawing his own wand and casting "Finite!" on the dancing boy. The latter immediately crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath between laughs.
"Carter," said the ginger boy, "As Head Boy, I have the authority to dock points. And before the start of term!"
Carter groaned, tossing his head back and raising his hands comically. "Oh, lay off, Weasley! It's only a bit of fun!"
If it were possible, Weasley would've puffed his chest out even more. "Ten points from Hufflepuff, Caxter."
Looking around at the gathered students, Weasley frowned before bellowing, "Everyone back to your compartments, NOW!"
And so Jamie obliged following a gaggle of giggling girls going to the far end of the train. She ducked into an empty compartment, sighing once she was alone.
So all these children were off to a school of magic! Maybe, with a little bit of luck, that meant Jamie was magic too!
"But I've got nothing," she sighed in sudden defeat. It was true: unlike all the other enrolled students, Jamie was a stowaway, an orphan, a runaway, without any robes, any books, any wand... But the pull told her this was the right place to be, so Jamie decided to "wing it".
Jamie awoke to a cold feeling, a few hours after the train had left the station. Mist drifted around, over and inside the train, and because of her insatiable curiosity, Jamie opened her compartment door and peeked out.
A tall, dark shape, covered in a black cloak, was hovering a few feet from Jamie. Her pull screamed at her to get as far away from it as she could, but Jamie was frozen on the spot.
The figure slowly turned, and if Jamie could see its face, it would be looking straight at her.
And pain wreaked its way through Jamie's heart, tearing it apart, with memories that Jamie had sworn away.
A tall, smiling man, with a beautiful woman at his side. They are crouching next to Jamie, reaching out to her with both hands. The couple's faces are blurry, but Jamie can make out their loving smiles, their happy eyes. She just can't remember the rest of them.
This, reader, is a happy memory, but because of this, it is the worst memory of Jamie's, as it reminds her that however happy she used to be, she'll never find that again.
And suddenly, bright white light.